


Model Guy

by eventidexilluminations



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, Gen, Graduation, LARPing, M/M, Model Castiel, Student Charlie, Student Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:05:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4079020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eventidexilluminations/pseuds/eventidexilluminations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To remember a person, one associated certain things with said person. A jacket, a smell, some distinguishing physical feature, it kind of just happens. So, calling this guy Model Guy works considering how Dean first saw him. Calling him Model Guy when he actually meets him? Not working as much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The random ideas that pop into my head when I'm waiting for another class to start, what entertaining things. 
> 
> Short first meet thing, I don't know if it'll continue, if I'll add more pieces to it, I guess it depends how interesting it is? Something like that.
> 
> Since someone pointed it out in a comment and I don't want to upset anyone or something like that, there's a point where Dean says "homosexual, heterosexual, and lesbian," as sort of the three blanket terms people use. Lesbians are homosexuals, attracted to their own sex, yes, and he distinguishes the two to make a point that people who do so don't really make the effort to understand sexualities. Just see homosexual–or the more common homo–exclusively for males and lesbians females. I think I'm making sense? I hope so. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! :D

Dean knew the moment he signed up for this class, he was going to fucking hate it.

Yeah, he was still going to do his best, he needed it to graduate, it was a valuable class, he needed to at least know the basics, but research methods for psychology sounded boring as shit. The goddamn scientific method steps or ten or what the fuck ever steps to conducting an experiment were not worth shit, he concluded, when he was not aiming to be a researcher.

He wanted to help kids, that was it.

Sam and him had a crap childhood, bounced around from home to home, never had much of the settled life, he knew what it was like and that translated into why not help kids out in similar situations so their lives were a little less shitty.

So, it was a little frustrating having to be in a group with three other people and create an experiment they could run at the school with other psychology students as their participants. How mental illness affects perception of whether someone was guilty of a crime or not, that was what the group had decided on and it was annoying more than anything that one member of the group never showed and the other two never seemed to listen.

Fuck this class.

It was probably this foul mood that settled every day he went to this class that made the fact that he had to participate in other studies that much more of a douche to him, he grumbled and complained in his head the whole time he stalked over to the psychology department offices to find the sign up sheets and picked the first five closest to when he got out of class.

It was study number three that caught his attention.

Study number three was perception of sexuality based on physical appearance, pretty tame thing, really. Consent forms were filled out, surveys were set face down, general stuff like that and when the girl finished talking, a picture was brought up and Dean choked on his spit.

Those were _really_ fucking blue eyes.

Blue as the fucking ocean blue.

The male in the picture had the most ridiculous bed head he had ever seen, looked like he came out of a freaking catalogue trying to promote private school uniforms or something as cool and chic, dark blue tie with white stripes loose and top buttons popped open, leaning against the railing and fuck him, where the hell did they find this guy, a modelling agency or something?

Jesus Christ.

He almost forgot about what this whole study was about until he was face with the question about what this dude's sexuality was based on the picture. What upset him was there was only homosexual or straight. Probably did it because it was easier for them to input data and all, though they could have added at least another or two, what if Model Guy was pansexual, or bisexual, or demisexual, or asexual?

There were a hell of a lot more sexualities than others cared to bother with and most were labelled invalid if they were heard of by people. Kind of a long shot to hope that it could make an impact, but if there was more research on the various ones out there, maybe people would stop using the blanket terms of what he dubbed the "Big Three."

Homosexual, heterosexual, or lesbian, that was all people seemed to be able to comprehend.

Out of spite, he did not answer that particular question. If they kept his survey for the other answers or if they tossed it out, made no real difference to him.

Life went on anyway.

He got his letter and email congratulating him of fulfilling the requirements for graduation and Charlie did, too, a day later. Before they went out for cheeseburgers and milkshakes to celebrate, they had to swing by to buy their things for graduation. Cap and gown, tassel, the whole shebang. There was really no line, one person ahead of him, and Charlie and he took this time to debate the finer mechanics of something very important.

"I'm just saying, Charlie, Warriors of Yesteryear are the ones most vulnerable right now, the Elves can wait."

"Yeah, what about the Shadow Orcs? Not like they're making flower crowns, they're after mine."

"I can help you over here."

Dean was reaching for his wallet already, looking up once at the counter and his jaw dropped.

 _"Holy_ _crap,_ you're Model Guy."

Said guy squinted at him, head tilting.

"I beg pardon?"

Yeah, not the most eloquent moment he had.

"Uh, a psychology study, you were the subject?"

Recognition crossed his face as he smiled, "Oh, yes. A friend asked if I would help her, she needed pictures of me. I had no idea I would be named 'Model Guy' for the purpose of the study, though I suppose that is not entirely inaccurate."

They actually never said a name, which was kind of embarrassing now that he blurted it out like that and Charlie elbowed him, he was staring and not saying anything.

"Sorry about Dean, he gets stupid around pretty people and gives them code names when he doesn't know their actual name."

Indignation flared through him and he side eyed Charlie for her betrayal, so what if he gave people names in his head, everyone had to do that, how else would they remember everyone, more so if they just saw a picture or barely met? The other was unperturbed by this and chuckled, little laugh lines around his eyes become slightly more pronounced and shit, why was he staring?

He should stop staring.

"Well, the name is flattering. I also go by Castiel, in case Model Guy is too much of a mouthful."

Castiel was a mouthful, too. Who named their kid _Castiel?_ Clearly, he was not vocalising anything because Castiel was smiling politely, amused, and Charlie took over.

"Well, I'm Charlie, nice to meet you. We're here to buy our cap and gown. Obviously."

"Yes, of course. Obviously. Congratulations, both of you. Are you purchasing a package or the cap and gown alone?"

Now that the shock of running into him was wearing off, Dean was a little more capable of forming coherent thoughts, ordering his stupid package and having a thought niggling in the back of his mind that Castiel was familiar from more than just that photo, now that he saw him in person and heard him talk.

Where from, fuck if he remembered.

Chance to ask was gone, anyway, they had both paid and Castiel had given Charlie and him receipts along with an order form he filled out, a requirement just in case anything went wrong and they needed to prove that they paid. They were walking down to the parking lot and he could feel Charlie's eyes boring a freaking hole into his skull, patience rapidly wearing thin.

_"What?"_

"Well, what does it say?"

"What does what say?"

Charlie rolled her eyes at him.

"The receipt! Model Guy wrote something on yours."

What?

Pulling his receipt back out, he saw some neat writing at the very bottom, eyebrows shooting up at what was written.

_For the record, you are a pretty person, too._

_650-594-7516_

Well, hot damn.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has not been on a date in awhile now because of grad school. Somehow, this is not acceptable to Charlie all of a sudden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write random things that sometimes come out silly, or might not make sense. This is one of those things. I'm not the best at humour, I often think, so this is my attempts at sticking it in here and there. I told someone I would continue this and here it is, I hope it's to your liking.
> 
> Will I keep going, who knows;;
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Graduation ceremonies, he rarely saw the point to them.

At least, being in them, he could deal with being a spectator, he was damn excited to see his little brother graduated and cheered the loudest when they announced his full ride to Stanford. His graduation, he wanted it over with, and he got it over with as quick as possible, which really was kind of hard when he could not speed it along. Sam was unable to attend, busy with his studies and that was no biggie, he was alright with finding Charlie, making it out of the parking lot in the Impala and heading to the nearest Denny's.

He was looking forward to a Coke, a juicy hamburger and maybe some onion rings, what they planned on, then they could head to the apartment.

It did not work that way exactly.

Well, they got to Denny's, but then Charlie ran into Gilda out of some complete coincidence–yeah, right–and Dean was never one to be a third wheel, he told her to go on, he would be fine.

And in a complete, total, "wow, what a coinky-dink" way, as soon as she walked out with her, who walked in through those doors but Model Guy himself, who smiled at Charlie and she winked back at him.

That was a way to get him to go out on a date, he guessed, even though he was fuming inside at yet another betrayal on her part, calling him when she knew he was trying to still figure out how.

Since that day in the parking lot, number in hand, he had not really made the effort to call him because he had no idea what to ask, honestly.

And it kept bothering him where he possibly knew him from.

"Hello, Dean."

"Uh, hey. I'm guessing Charlie called you?"

"Technically, you did. She used your phone to text me."

Oh.

Dean stood there awkwardly, rocking back and forth on his heels before gesturing to the tables.

"Want to sit?"

"I don't believe we're meant to stay loitering."

Sassy son of a bitch.

So, there they were, sitting in a booth, looking over the menu and a waitress came up to them, pad and pen out.

"Are you two ready to order or do you need more time?"

"We're ready."

He ordered his food, noticing that Model Guy–Castiel, whatever–was flipping back and forth between the sections of the menu, reading it over repeatedly.

"And for you?"

"I'll have the veggie skillet and Sprite with a shot of cherry."

The reaction was almost instantaneous, the second one damn syllable left his lips, the pen slipped out of the waitress' hand, wide eyes glued on the man looking at her who had done nothing more than order what sounded more like a pile of vegetables than a full meal.

_"Oh my God, it's you!"_

This outburst lacked a notable impact on the male, he merely smiled and nodded, "Yes, it appears it is."

"Can I just say, I _really_ love you? You're _amazing!"_

"I'm as amazing as you and everyone else make me, so thank you."

What the hell?

Dean watched this whole exchange, the girl gushing, getting an autograph and picture, a tight as hell hug from her, the promise not to say anything to friends until he was gone, telling him he was so lucky to know him and it was all kind of weird, it made him a little uncomfortable to sit here and see this, kind of invasive, too invasive, he was a guy who liked his privacy, Castiel took it in absolute stride, like this was a daily occurrence to him.

Who the hell had this on a daily basis?

Autographs, pictures, people gushing…

That normally happened to…

Later, Dean would find it hilarious how quickly he recalled where he saw him, so laughable.

 _"Oh shit,_ you're Castiel Novak. From _Gaslight_ and _Start Another Story."_

Fuck, not Model Guy, he was Model/Actor Guy.

Or was it Actor/Model Guy?

No wonder his name was so familiar, even if he wondered who the hell named their son Castiel.

Movies he saw awhile back, it was ridiculous how he could not put the guy to the movies now that he thought about it. Sam's girlfriend, Jess, she was raving about these movies, _Start Another Story_ was the continuation of _Gaslight,_ it was finally out, and he figured why not watch it with them, it was released during Winter Break, Jess had _Gaslight_ on DVD.

Maybe it was his voice, it was a lot higher in the movies, or his appearance, his character was some nerdy little clean-cut guy fresh out of high school, all shy and passive, in some abusive relationship with this chick, actress's name was Jane, hell if he remembered her last name.

Castiel lips curled up at the revelation he had and chuckled.

"I'd say I've been caught if I was actually making an attempt to hide that fact."

"So, you're not a model?"

Should he call him Actor Guy?

"Well, I've done some modelling, more acting than anything else."

Actor/Model Guy, then.

But, if that was true, those movies brought in a lot of money, there were likely other things he was in, that meant money, so did modelling.

"Why the hell were you working on campus?"

Not like he was exactly short on money, with all he did, he would imagine.

"I wasn't always acting. I happen to have attended Berkeley for my undergraduate, I saw they needed help, so I volunteered my time."

He went to Berkeley, too? How about that.

Eyebrow arched, he thanked the waitress when she set down their drinks and food then turned back to the other that was already picking up his fork.

"Undergraduate, huh? What'd you major in?"

"Astronomy."

Celestial objects, space, physical universe, all that science stuff.  

"Man, I got to be honest, that's not what I was expecting."

"Drama or theatre, I take?"

"Something like that. Skills, like yours, they take practice and like, direction and shit along with talent, right?"

The other was spearing the mushrooms in his big mix of vegetables, pushing aside all the rest for now.

"I suppose that may be true, for some. For others, perhaps they might not need as much direction. I'm not so egotistical to say I didn't need any or didn't have my share of not getting parts, though I don't think any acting school might have helped me much, I probably would've been kicked out."

Dean snorted and took a bite of his hamburger, about to open his mouth to talk and decided he should probably at least cover his mouth with a napkin, to make less of an ass of himself.

"So, you got a part, just like that?"

"No. It took a few tries, actually more than I care to count, until I got my first part. Small role, a two part episode in this mystery show. Then another part for a season in a crime-drama about serial killers and cults, the big bad. That was interesting, but my character sort of died, they were trying to wrap up everything since it was the last season of the series. So on and so forth, small things here and there, until I got the part for _Gaslight."_

This was going a lot better than he initially thought it might, conversation wise and overall. Not that he sucked at dates or anything, graduate school was simply time consuming and he really wanted to do this proper, graduate with honours and all that fun stuff because the better it looked, the more likely employers would think he was a good match and hire him and then he could help kids.

A little out of practice, that was all.

Castiel enjoyed hearing about his experiences in graduate school, wanted to know if it was much different from undergraduate since he never applied once he received his Bachelor's, filming and such took up too much of his time, he was not confident he would be able to do both and give it all he had, which was understandable. School and working at the UPS store was tiresome sometimes, customers could be real dicks, and sometimes he felt he slapped together assignments and hoped for the best rather than actually try.

Dean also found it entirely amusing and fucking adorable that the reason the man had been going back and forth when looking at the menu was because he really wanted that sirloin steak, to try it was all, and went with what he did because his manager would murder him if he ate anything heavy too late, always told him it made him hissy in the morning since he would not sleep well.

"It's not like she'd actually kill me," he told him, "but she would sit me down and lecture me about all the other times and she always brings up that time I ate two pints of Karamel Sutra at one in the morning, only to feel horrible the next day, which seems a little worse than being killed sometimes."

Dean laughed at that way too hard, managing to gasp out through his laughter, _"Karamel Sutra?_ Really?"

"It's good ice cream!"

At one point, he actually forgot they were at Denny's or that it was already kind of late, he guessed, it was around eleven thirty and although he has really nothing to do, Castiel had a full day starting in what could be thought of as about two hours since he had to be picked up and driven to LA, in which time he would sleep. Kind of working, not really, he said, being driven to work was all.

Jesus, the guy should have been sleeping right now.

"Dude, why didn't you tell Charlie?"

They were outside, already having paid, even with the waitress insisting it was fine and fuck, Castiel gave her one smiled and he might as well have charmed her panties right off with how she looked, able to pay and leave a tip, exiting before she could realise how much the man had left. And Castiel merely shrugged, walking down the parking lot.

"I wanted to get to know you and seeing as you weren't going to make the first move, I might be in LA for awhile, I figured I might as well take Charlie's offer rather than have to tell you I can't make it. Sends a bad message."

Dean did not know what to say to that and of course his stupid mouth opened and said, "Okay."

At least it made Castiel laugh.

His mouth kind of had its own ideas of what to say and do without his permission sometimes. For example, now, as he saw the man's ride.

"You have a motorcycle."

A freaking nice as hell motorcycle.

"No one really suspects a motorcycle, it's always fun to see people's face when I take off my helmet. Besides, I have enough time in cars being driven back and forth, this is a lot more exciting."

Castiel was really something else.

Most actors and actresses heard of were often times jerks, in his experience. Fame made their heads big and inflated their ego even more. Yeah, not all of them were like that, some were really generous and cared about their fans, though they still had this air of just knowing they were celebrities of some kind, it was hard to picture them doing stuff like grocery shopping or washing dishes or eating pints of ice cream at one in the morning for the sheer fact that they could. He might have never known Castiel was an actor with what appeared to be a rather considerably sized fan base for the amount of things he was in, what with how down to earth he was.

Speaking of fan base.

"Hey, what's the name of that show? The serial killer-cult one?"

He could always look it up on IMBd, still probably would, never hurt to hear it from the man himself.

_"Seven Devils."_

_Seven Devils,_ he could find that online or maybe it was on Netflix.

Castiel already had his helmet tucked under his arm, jacket on and it was kind of the last thing on his mind when he felt lips against his. Short and not pushing to get anything more, a chaste little thing and the man moved back soon enough.

A little too soon, for his tastes.

"Have fun watching," he watched as he put his helmet on, got on his bike and hidden or not, he could tell the guy smirked, "I'll expect you to be the one to call next time, not Charlie."

The motherfucker _winked_ at him before taking off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do fans say to actors when they're really excited? I'm not sure. I met Misha twice and I told him hello and asked him how he was doing, I thought it was polite, conversational and such. It was cool, too, and I felt very short and tiny compared to him. 
> 
> The titles of the movies are taken from song by Emilie Autumn. The television show is from a song by Florence and the Machine.
> 
> I don't know if that ice cream is good, I can't eat stuff with milk, but it sounded like people liked it and the name was good for word play.

**Author's Note:**

> Have a wonderful day! c:


End file.
